


Two Fables: The Cunning and the Untamed

by Eitra (MusicKitty), MusicKitty



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicKitty/pseuds/Eitra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicKitty/pseuds/MusicKitty
Summary: Separate stories, following the tales of the Untamed of the North and the Cunning of the West: Two girls, both with adventures, both with hardships, both living in the Frontiers of the Realm, both with a journey that will take them to one place: Crosswind Hold.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is not a Vivian/Tyra ship. I wanted to make a story about Tyra and a story about Vivian, but I didn't think I had enough of either to make two full stories, so I put them together.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

She could hear the footsteps nearby, it was close.

She clutched her hand, her freezing projectile held tight in her tiny fist.

She had to be careful: squeezing it too hard would cause it to shatter in her hand, leaving her unarmed on the battlefield. If this happened, the hunter would become the hunted.

Snow shifted nearby, a crash of ice and sleet: her prey had slipped on the ground. It was vulnerable.

She moved forward, taking shelter in a juniper bush. She could see her prey just from beyond. Its furry back was covered in snow, it’s golden hair was a mess, its limbs struggled for a grasp on the ground as it tried to get back to its feet. Now was the perfect time to finish it off.

She braced, before letting her ammo fly. The snowball flew through the air and smashed into the beast’s head, knocking it to the ground with a cry of alarm.

She dashed through the bush and tackled her prey, wrapping her arms around its neck and holding tight.

“Alright, alright, Tyra! You win!” Her nine-year-old victim laughed as she knocked the five-year-old Tyra from her back.

“How did you get behind me? Dahlia asked, pulling herself to her feet.

“I was quiet and sneaky, just like you taught me!” Tyra chirped, jumping slightly in excitement.

Dahlia laughed and ruffled her little sister’s hair, “You were! Mum and da will be very impressed!”

The older girl shook out her wolf cloak for a moment, before taking Tyra’s hand, “Come on, we should be getting back soon.”

The two rushed through the snowscape, leaping over fallen trees and moving quickly and carefully around frozen stones. Snow-hares darted out of the way as the two tiny girls made their way back to their little village.

The village came in to view through the trees and undergrowth. The wood that made up the small huts was lined with white birch bark and silver pelts, blending them into the snowy clearing in which they resided.

Men and women moved to and fro with intent and purpose. None seemed to notice the two small children who weaved around their legs, laughing and giggling madly.

The two girls arrived at their little hut and moved inside, pausing to brush the snow from their boots and coats.

“I told you two not to be out so long by yourselves!” Came a deep female voice from the other side of the two-room hut. A woman with the same golden blonde hair as the girls was resting on a gorlock pelt and bent over a book with a quill in hand.

“Sorry Mumma.” The girls spoke in unison. 

“Well, sorry isn’t going to earn you back your desert!” The woman replied, not looking up from her writing, “Now then, go and wash up, supper is on the table.”

“Yes Mumma!” Tyra squeaked as she followed her sister to the low table that had been set with bowls of stew.

  
  


“Dahlia?”

“Go to sleep Tyra.”

“Dahlia!” Tyra spoke a bit louder from her half of the bedroll.

“I said go to sleep, Tyra, it’s late, and Da will have a fit if you wake him.” the older girl replied, not opening her eyes. She rolled slightly, burying her face in her pillow.

Tyra huffed and sat up, pushing the pelt blankets from her legs, “I want a story, Dahlia, can you tell me one?”

Without moving her face from the pillow, Dahlia muttered, “Fine. There once was a little girl who didn’t go to sleep when she was told. She was really loud and her big sister warned her to stop, but she didn’t listen. Then her da woke up and whipped her and she went to bed with a sore backside. The end.”

Tyra rolled her eyes and climbed out of the cot. Adjacent to hers and her sister’s was her parent’s, in which only her father slept. Where was her mother?

Tyra put on her slippers to protect her feet from the ice-cold un-rugged floor out of the sleeping room. She walked quietly, carefully out of the room. The summer night sun gently illuminated the room through the closed drapes.

Tyra’s mother had not moved from her spot and was still carefully writing in her book.

The small child approached her mother silently, gazing around the woman as she moved. A few books were resting around the woman. Many had titles that had been scribbled out or written over once, twice, thrice. Others were untitled completely and were strewn haphazardly on the ground. Regardless of whether or not the books were titled, all had a small scribble in the bottom corner, _Fryda Fawkes._

“You should be in bed, little cub.” Fryda did not look up from her writing. Her back was toward Tyra.

“I-I couldn’t sleep.” Tyra answered. She moved around her mother and crawled on to the women’s lap. Fryda chuckled softly and stroked a hand through her younger daughter’s hair.

“Can you tell me a story?” Tyra asked.

“I can’t think of any stories for you right now.” Fryda replied.

“You always have stories!” the child insisted, “You’re writing one right now, aren’t you? What’s that one about?”

“You’re a bit young to understand it.” answered Fryda as she put the book on the ground beside her.

Tyra crawled off of her mother, lay on the ground before the woman, and placed her head on her mother’s lap, “That’s okay, I don’t need to understand it. I just want to hear you tell a story to me.”

Fryda smiled and brushed Tyra’s hair with her fingers for a few silent moments. Finally, she reached for the book and flipped through the pages for a few seconds, before landing on a page.

“Alright, alright, I’ll read to you the part that I’ve just written. And then you go to sleep, okay?”

Tyra nodded into her mother’s lap.

Fryda’s soft voice lulled the girl to sleep as she read the passage from her book.

  
  


_The winter wind, she was a violent woman as she wailed, tore upon leaves dried of frost with breezes strong as the beast’s claws. She loathed to be disturbed, but disturbed she was as the pest from beyond the vale stepped through her frozen wasteland, his mission clear, his mind steady, his heart beating like the wartime drums. The beating was hard, of course it was, for a mind is like a flower’s stalk, bending and breaking in the wind, but a heart carries on like a beast of burden, and carry on he did, his heart guiding every step of his long and winding journey._

_He knew why the frozen winds beat, he heard the cry, he felt the pain- others who crossed her thought she was mad, crazed with the isolation that was winter, the isolation that froze up the flowers and dried up the rivers, stopped the beasts breaths and left her with none but her own cries to keep her company. Men thought this, he found, because men thought of what suited them, men thought she was a selfish woman because men were selfish beasts, none could be unlike them, so they thought._

_He was different. He knew of her, not as a woman gone blind with rage, but a woman lost in her sorrows. She was not as isolated as men believed her to be, no, there were those who survived -thrived- in her cold, and to them, she was not the insane wench, but the loving and caring mother. The snow-hares, their pelts white to match her frozen beauty, the white foxes, their paws delicate enough not to break her gentle snows- truly, truly, there was nature in the winter wind, and she was the caring mother who loved her children. The men of the south who cut her wood and harvested the rare white fur of her children- these men she hated. She wept for their crimes and the pain they caused her children. They did not need the fur they came to take, they did not need that which they used, they simply wasted and wasted._

_He was different, yet it mattered little to her. She saw a southern man, she saw an outsider, she saw a thief, a parasite, a pest of the farther lands. He had no interest in the snow-hares or the foxes, he was here for one purpose only._

_He meant not to harm the winter winds, for her daughter was the nymph of the Frozen Frontier. He knew taking the girl from her home would leave him just as selfish as the other men, he was not like them. He only longed to see her one last time before the months’ night began, before darkness would fill the land. Oh, how he longed to see one last time her hair like silver, her eyes like moonlight, her lips like velvet, her-_

  
  


“Are ya reading one of your gross _lovey_ books again?”

Vivian chose to ignore the taunt. She buried her nose farther into her book and tried to let the words take her over again, when suddenly, the book was wrenched from her hand.

“Hazel! Give it back!” she snapped as she leapt to her feet and tried to snatch the book. Her elder sister held the book up, just out of Vivian’s reach.

Hazel laughed as she waved the book over the prepubescent girl’s head, “Let me guess, you’re just getting to the part where the man beats up the dragon and saves the woman and they get married and everyone is happy and blah, blah, blah, happily ever after?”

“No!” Vivian snapped, “Fryda Fawkes don’t write like that! She tells stories about people overcoming their flaws! The protagonist-”

“Yeah, don’t care.” Hazel replied, before tucking the book under her arm, “Seriously, this stupid romance stuff only happens in the stories. No handsome man is going to whisk you away and save you from your chores, Vivi.”

Vivian’s face flushed red and she yelled, “They ain’t like that! The protagonist had to understand that his tribe did bad things, and he had to humble himself to get the woman. He ends up giving up everything he knew so he can live like her, instead of just taking her away from her home like any of his friends would.”

Hazel cut her eyes, “How do you already know the ending? You bought this book last week.”

“I read it all the night I got it.” Vivian answered sheepishly, “I was just so excited. This is my third read-through.”

Hazel snorted, “So not only are you reading this trash, but you’re _re-_ reading it? Quit wasting your time, Vivi.” With that, the thirteen-year-old turned and marched away, holding up her skirts with one hand and the book fast with the other.

“Hey, bring that back!” Vivian called, running after her sister. Hazel laughed and sped up, easily outpacing her sister on longer legs. Vivian cried out as she ran, but her sister’s long auburn hair stained with the single bright red streak was just out of her reach.

“Hazel!” Came a shout from the nearby farmhouse, “You leave Vivian alone!”

“You ain’t my mom, Elizabeth!” Hazel responded, stopping short in her tracks. Vivian, not expecting the stop, crashed into her sister and fell to the ground. Hazel snorted and dropped the book on top of Vivian, muttering, “Take your stupid lovey book, I don’t care.”

Vivian slowly rose to her feet and brushed off her dress. Her petticoat had snagged on something and torn, she’d have to fix that later. 

She grabbed her book, pouting slightly to see the pages a bit wrinkled from Hazel’s rough handling.

She was only acutely aware of the setting sun. Her sisters would have supper soon, and it was her turn to set the table. Her eldest sister, Elizabeth would be giving her a proper earful if she was late! Elizabeth was always one to nag- it was normal for a girl who had been shoved into the responsibility of raising her own sisters from the age of ten, about when Vivian was a toddler and their mother had decided that she’d rather be off whoring, or whatever else she was doing, instead of raising her own children. She had dropped in the next year to leave another baby in her daughter’s care, Jewel, and had dropped off a few more girls in the following years, Victoria and Penelope before each time wandering off again with hardly a word to her elder daughters.

As Vivian glanced at the book under her arm, she wondered if there really were people out there like in Fryda Fawkes’ books. Fawkes always wrote about people who learned to act selflessly and cared more about those they loved than anyone else. Her book last year was all about how a woman from Greenscape lost her whole tribe to a terrible storm, and ended up travelling for years, working herself to the bone to raise her two young children by herself.

Maybe life was different outside the West. The Damned Frontier, or simply known as The Damned, was a land of rock and hardships, of people who only cared about themselves, and of Bandit Kings who taxed townspeople and ruled over lands they hardly cared for. Vivian longed for the days that she would be able to travel the Realm and find someplace better, a place where people cared about each other, not because they had to and it was their responsibility, but because they loved one another.

Her sisters told her that place was a lie, but Vivian knew it was out there somewhere. Fryda Fawkes wrote of beauties in every corner of the Realm, and Vivian vowed that one day she would find that place, or she’d make it herself.


	2. Monsters Around Every Corner

  
  


Tyra paced back and forth in the centre of the tribe’s current camp, dozens of thoughts running through her mind. Dahlia was old enough to go on her first hunting party to watch the hunt, and Tyra couldn’t wait for the party to return and for Dahlia to share everything she had learned and witnessed on the hunt. 

Of course, the thought that Dahlia and the party wouldn’t return at all was resting in the back of her mind, but she willed herself not to focus on it. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer to the gods, begging for their will to be to guide the group home safely.

Suddenly, Tyra darted forward and out of the camp. She ran through the snowy forest, leaving heavy, sloppy footprints in her wake. She knew better, but she did not care, as focused as she was on her destination. 

She tore down the snow path as fast as her tiny legs could carry her, she could see the tree just a few dozen yards up ahead. Up in this tree rested a little treehouse that she and Dahlia and the other children of the camp had built carefully, piece by piece. It was so high up that she’d be able to see over the treetops all around, she’d be able to see the hunting party coming from miles away. 

As focused as she was on the tree, she did not realise the furry mass before her until she had crashed into a long, woolly leg.

Tyra fell back into the snow, stunned for a moment. She moved a hand to her head and held the spot in pain, swearing under her breath for her mistake of not looking where she was going.

She was brought back into the scene by the sound of a deep, low, moan-like growl. She looked up carefully, her eyes meeting a pair of massive, dark irises in a long fur-covered face. Atop the face were a pair of wide, pearl-coloured antlers.

A very angry moose.

The creature kept its head down and its stance wide as it scanned its strange little “attacker” closely. 

Tyra began to slowly crawl backwards, keeping her face toward the animal. 

The moose raised its head slightly, its ears flat to its head.

Suddenly, it surged forward. Tyra shrieked in terror and dove aside, just missing getting crushed by its front hooves as it slammed them into the snow. She rolled on the snow and in a single move, pulled herself to her feet and took off into the undergrowth. She couldn’t hear the moose running behind her, and she risked a glance back. The creature had paused, seemingly having lost track of her. It gazed around for a moment before its ears shot up as it spotted her, and it turned on its hooves.

Tyra turned back to her own path. The sound of the beast’s hooves tearing through the snow drowned out the sound of her own pounding heartbeat. She could feel it’s breath on the back of her neck.

The snow tore up as the moose, directly behind her, threw its front legs up to hit her. Tyra rolled out of the way and into a bush.

The moose bellowed in rage as it threw its antlers into the bush, tearing at the branches. Tyra sank deeper into the foliage as the plant tore at her face and limbs. She could smell fresh blood welling from the uncountable scratches in her skin.

She finally fell through the bush and into the snow beneath, her scarlet blood sprinkling the white frost around her. She slipped for a second as she dragged her feet out of the snow and took off into a gallop through the forest once more.

She could hear the moose continue to tear at the bush in anger before the sound of antlers ripping apart plantlife suddenly fell silent: Either the moose had realised that she was no longer under the bush, or there was no longer a bush for her to be under.

The tree was just up ahead a few more paces. She could see the rope ladder from the treehouse swinging gently in the breeze, beckoning for her to climb to safety.

The sound of tearing snow was getting louder and louder behind her. She cast a glance back just in time to see a pair of massive antlers lowered and aiming for her head.

She shrieked and duck down, the antlers slamming into the tree bark where her head had been a moment prior. One of the beast’s legs slammed into her right forearm, and she heard a crack.

Tyra sank into the snow under the horrifying creature, cradling her arm as immense pain began to shoot up into her upper arm and shoulder. Her face felt sticky with sweat and blood, her vision was fogging with tears, and she could feel a wet warmth running down her legs.

The moose reared onto its hindlegs, swinging its massive front hooves down on her.

Tyra shut her eyes.

She was deafened by a loud noise, before something massive, heavy, and warm collapsed on top of her.

Tyra struggled under the weight and realised she could not breathe through the fur and mass.

The mass began to shift until it pulled off of her slightly. 

Tyra opened her eyes to find herself face to face with the moose, it’s dark eyes wide, its muscles calm, the hole in its head gushing with blood.

“Tyra! Are you alright?” The voice was her father’s.

“Da…” Tyra muttered through her shock. Her focus came back to her and she watched the massive, rough man move toward her. He pulled at the moose corpse, yanking it off of his daughter.

“Daddy…” Tyra sniffled as the pain of her arm began to grow through her shock.

Her father knelt beside her, looking her over.

“What is it, Albin?” It was the voice of Uncle Mattias. 

“It’s Tyra, she’s hurt!” her father called over his shoulder, before turning back to Tyra. He touched her hand, examining her fingers.

Tyra winced in pain.

“Make a fist, honey.” He spoke to her gently. She tried, but the pain was unbearable. Her forearm was beginning to swell.

“It’s broken.” He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her. He motioned to his hunting party, who were arriving through the trees. As soon as Dahlia spotted Tyra, she rushed away from the rest of the adults to her sister’s aid.

“Keep watch!” He ordered Mattias, “She smells of blood and urine, the scent will attract predators.”

To Dahlia, he spoke more gently, but still firmly, “Watch me, you need to learn how to do this.”

Tyra winced as her father took her arm gently in his large palms, he felt around the bone, before motioning for Dahlia to feel. She touched the arm where her father was, and he explained, “The break is right there and it’s not set right, we’ll have to set it.”

“Daddy!” Tyra cried out. Albin turned to her and gave her a gentle smile, “Now, now, little cub. You’re too old for that. It’ll just be a moment, you can handle it.”

He applied pressure to her arm, and the pain shot through her limb again. Tyra cried out in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks.

As he pressed the arm against a stick and bound it tightly into a splint, he had Dahlia tend to Tyra’s many scratches.

Once Tyra had been treated, Albin took her in his arms and rose. He began to walk with the group, the other men and women hunters surrounding him to protect him and the injured girl. A few of them dragged the Moose carcass along with the other creatures from the hunt. Tyra’s shock had mostly worn off at this point, and her arm rested in stinging pain. She felt safe wrapped in her father’s hairy arms, held close to his chest and the gentle but powerful beating of his heart.

He began to sing a hunting melody. His voice echoed through his chest, and Tyra felt herself drifting off to sleep to the soft rumble.

  
  
  


_~~~~_

The carriage rolled to a halt, and Victoria flew forward, crashing into the seat before her.

“What did I tell you about standing while the carriage is moving?” Vivian snapped, not looking up from her book.

Penelope burst out laughing, and even the timid and quiet Jewel could barely hold back a laugh.

Vivian rolled her eyes and moved to the door, “C’mon, we’re here. Let’s get this over with, I wanna be home.”

Usually, it was Hazel’s job to do the grocery shopping, but Hazel had come down with a horrid fever and Vivian was tasked with going into town to pick up the groceries and medicine for her sister. Her younger sisters had insisted on coming along, and Elizabeth had enthusiastically agreed, wanting the girls out of the house so Hazel could rest in peace.

It wasn’t that Vivian disliked her siblings, but she hated having to watch over them, especially when it meant she couldn’t focus on Fryda Fawkes’ latest book, _Once More Into the Fray_.

The four girls left the carriage, and Vivian paid the carriage driver.

“Vivi, can we get jam? Do you think they’ll have jam? I want apricot jam!” Penelope squeaked. The barely nine-year-old trotted around her older sisters excitedly.

“We’ll buy what they got.” Vivian replied, “Now stay close and be quiet, we don’t want to bother anyone.”

The group walked down the dusty street. No one cast them a glance, but Vivian kept a close eye on every person who happened to walk near the girls.

Vivian nearly walked into a man who didn’t seem interested in moving out of her path. She moved to step around him and he pushed past her aggressively, glaring at her.

“Excuse me!” Vivian snapped, but the man hurried on quickly. His outfit seemed worn, his dark ebony hair was caked in mud, and he smelled dreadful. Vivian watched as he moved away, and she only continued on her journey when she was sure that he was gone.

They came to a wide white building with the words “ _General Store”_ painted across the front in red letters. An old man rocked gently on a worn wooden rocking chair beside the door. He nodded a greeting to the girls, rasping out the words, “Howdy youngins.”

“Hi, mister!” Penelope and Victoria spoke in unison, lifting their skirts slightly and giving quick curtsies. Jewel glanced away, too shy to make eye contact. Vivian ignored the man. 

As she reached for the door, Vivian paused for a moment, noticing several fliers taped to the windows. There were at least seven or eight different pieces of paper, all worn and old, and each showing a picture of a different young lady ranging from the ages of ten to thirty. At the tops of the papers were written the words “ _Missing”_ or “ _Lost”._

Vivian glanced back at her sisters, before turning back to the store. Just before she could open the door, it was yanked open and out of her hands. Vivian jumped back to avoid colliding with the boy that flew past her and slammed into the ground in front of the store.

“Stay outta my damn store, you thieving brat!” The store owner yelled from the doorway.

The boy, a few years older than Vivian and nearly a man, sat up from the ground and paused to straighten his glasses for a moment as he responded, “Aw, come on now, I ain’t stealing nothing. Just wanted to buy a deck o’ cards, is all.”

Vivian ushered her sisters into the building and away from the argument. She began to browse the shelves, keeping an eye on the shopping list that her eldest sister had written up for her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Penelope eyeing a display of stuffed animals.

Penelope caught her gaze and looked away, “I know, I know, we can’t afford it.”

Vivian frowned for a moment, before taking a step closer and selecting a brown and white rabbit plush from the shelf. She handed the plush to Penelope, replying, “Elizabeth’s clothing repair made good profits this month, I think we can afford a little extra. But you be good now, you hear, and you’re going to help Elizabeth with her chores when you get home to thank her.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal and hugged it to her chest. Vivian walked away to continue her shopping. From behind her, she heard her little sister squeak, “I’m going to name you Bunbun!”

Vivian picked out the fruits, vegetables, meat, and baking supplies that Elizabeth had listed first. She then obtained the sewing thread and fever medicine lower on the list.

She felt drawn to a book display at the back of the store. Many of the books were cookbooks, school books, or books containing general repair knowledge.

At the far corner of the table was a small pile of Fryda Fawkes books. Filled with sudden excitement, Vivian began to rapidly fish through the novels, only to find that there were no books she hadn’t read and didn’t already own among them. 

Vivian finished up her shopping and checked out at the front of the store, also remembering to mention the stuffed rabbit and pay for it as well, despite it not being present with the other groceries. While the storeowner bagged her purchases, she moved through the shelves to round up her sisters from their browsing. She found only two of her sisters.

“Where is Penelope?” She demanded Jewel and Victoria. Both younger girls looked at each other and shook their heads.

Vivian turned back to the store owner, waving a hand to get his attention. When he glanced up at her from his bagging, she asked, “Excuse me, but have you seen a little girl with curly black hair that has a red streak on the left side?”

The store owner thought for a moment, before responding, “Yes, I think I did see a girl like that leaving the building with a man.”

Vivian rushed to the store entrance and stood out on the porch, staring out into the street. She spotted a small brown and white stuffed rabbit on the ground in front of the store. _Bunbun_.

She ran to the rabbit and snatched it up, holding it to her chest. She was about to call out Penelope’s name, when she spotted at the end of a street, a man and a little girl walking together, the man leading the girl by her hand. Vivian rushed toward the two, and the closer she got, the closer she recognised the girl as Penelope and the man as the strange bad-smelling, dirty man from earlier.

“Hey! Where are you taking her?” She screamed. The man hurried forward. Penelope attempted to look over her shoulder, but the man yanked her along.

Vivian ran faster, “Stop! Let her go!”

“Screw off, girl!” The man snapped over his shoulder. Penelope tried to speak, but the man scooped her up and held her in his arm, startling her.

“That’s my sister!” Vivian cried, catching up to the man and grabbing for his arm. He turned and shoved her away, “Get back, Whore’s Kid, I don’t know you, this is my daughter!”

Penelope tried to protest, but suddenly she cut off with a wail.

“Lawman! Someone get a Lawman” The man called out, “This vagrant’s attacking me and scaring my child!”

“That’s my-” Vivian tried, but the man shoved her to the ground. Penelope continued to bawl.

Suddenly, a boy leapt at the man and slammed a fist into his jaw. The man dropped Penelope, who ran to Vivian.

“Why, you little-” The man growled, but the boy stepped into a defensive stance and raised a hand over his waist. Vivian noticed a holstered pistol under the boy’s hand, and by the man’s pause, he seemed to notice it as well.

By this point, at least a dozen onlookers in the streets were watching in confusion.

“Get lost, before things get uglier than you are.” The boy snarled. The man glanced at the crowd, the crying child in Vivian’s arms, and the boy, before backing off, muttering, “Piss off, brat.”

As the crowd dispersed, the boy turned to Vivian, and she recognised him as the one who had been thrown out of the General Store.

“Are y’all right, ladies?” he asked, offering Vivian a hand. She took it and he helped her and Penelope up. Vivian paused to check herself and her sister for injuries, noticing a small red welt on Penelope’s arm where the man must have pinched her to make her cry so she couldn’t say anything.

“We-we’re fine, thank you.” Vivian responded, turning back to the boy. He fixed his glasses and nodded, “The name’s Levi, I’m new in these parts.”

“Vivian, my sisters and I live in a little house to the west of town.”

“It’s nice to meet ya, Vivian.” He smiled, “I hope I’ll see ya again- except, maybe without having to save you and your sis.”

With this, he turned to leave. Vivian watched him walk away for a few moments, before Penelope tugged on her arm, bringing her back to focus.

Victoria and Jewel had caught up with Vivian and Penelope, and the four girls moved off back to the General Store to collect their groceries.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi is Hustler Strix


	3. New Friends

A voice in Tyra’s head was screaming in excitement, begging for her to run through the camp and explore all there was to discover in this strange place.

A second voice in her head told her to stay behind Dahlia and her father and not make eye contact with the strange people around her. 

The tribes of the Frontier and the Greenscape had gathered for a summit, and men and women of the many different tribes surrounded Tyra and her family. There were lots of traders with strange wares, and she even spotted Southerners wandering around.

It took Tyra a moment to notice that her family had vanished into the crowd. Tyra glanced around in shock, trying to spot her sister’s bear cloak and blonde hair through the sea of people.

She rushed through the crowd, but she couldn’t see any sign of her family. Suddenly she felt very alone in the crowd of people she didn’t know

Tyra paused for a minute, remembering the things her father had taught her about getting lost.  _ Find high ground, stay put, and try to locate something you recognise. _

She glanced around her, spotting a bear statue that stood overlooking the crowd. The tiny girl pushed through the people around her, trying to get to the statue.

She arrived at the wooden base of the statue of the standing bear. After testing the hardness of the wood with her hand, she dug her nails into the stand of the statue and began to climb.

“Little girl, what are you doing?”

Tyra turned to see a blonde, young woman watching her. The woman wore a wolf cloak, her hair was tied in a neat braid, and a blue Bestia mark was printed across her face.

“I’m lost, and I don’t know where my dad is.” Tyra admitted quietly.

“Well, let’s find your dad.” The woman chuckled, offering a hand.

Tyra took the woman’s warm hand and followed her through the crowd.

“What’s your name, and what tribe are you from?” The woman asked.

“Zachranca- I’m from Zachranca. I’m Tyra.” she replied as she scanned the crowd for any sign of her father.

“I’m Lupa, ‘Direwolf’, of Bestia.” Lupa paused for a second, before noting, “I think I see a man with a Zachranca mark, maybe he’s your father?”

Tyra nodded, and Lupa pulled her through the crowd of people until they came to a man that Tyra recognised.

“Mattias!” She shrieked, running from Lupa to embrace him. The large man looked down at her in shock for a moment before smiling and putting a hand on her back.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone you know!” Lupa laughed, “I’ll see you later- you’ll be at the competition, right?”

“We wouldn't miss it. Thank you.” Mattias responded. Lupa turned and vanished off into the crowd.

Mattias leaned down and lifted Tyra up by her armpits, before placing her on his arm. She was impressed by his strength: she felt like she was much too big to be carried.

“Come on, how about you and I get some treats and then go find your dad?” Her uncle chuckled. Tyra smiled and nodded excitedly.

  
  
  


The crowd cheered in excitement as one of the two men in the clearing leapt from his horse and on to the other man’s. He wrapped his arm around his opponent’s neck and wrenched the taller man from his horse’s back. Both men were flung to the ground as the horse reared in panic, not expecting the extra rider.

The two men wrestled on the ground for a moment, before it became clear that one had pinned the other.

“A win from Cyril of Zachranca!” The announcer called out. Tyra beamed and watched her tribe rise from their seats and loudly applaud the challenger from their tribe. They took their seats again as the challengers in the pit helped each other to their feet and gave friendly words to each other, before moving out of the arena.

“Next, we have close-quarters grappling.” Spoke the announcer, “Our competitors for this challenge not only come from the same tribe, but are the twin children of the head warrior of Bestia. Give it up for Direwolf and Ghostfeather!”

Tyra sat up excitedly, watching as her friend from earlier, Lupa, entered the arena. Lupa threw off her wolf pelt and turned to the crowd, pumping her fist. The crowd cheered in response.

A young man entered the arena next. He had dark hair and a green Bestia mark that matched his sister’s blue mark. His arms were stiff and muscular and he seemed to radiate power. Tyra felt drawn to the way he moved, the way he walked, the way he held himself as he threw his feathered cloak from his shoulders. He glanced up at the crowd and for a moment Tyra thought that his amber eyes met hers.

The man and women circled each other slowly for a minute as the crowd watched on. Suddenly, Ghostfeather sprung forward, his arms outstretched to Lupa. She ducked down and wrapped her arms around his legs, knocking him to the ground.

Tyra sat at the edge of her seat as the two wrestled back and forth: Ghostfeather was stronger, but Lupa was faster, and the two seemed very evenly matched.

Lupa was able to catch a hand around Ghostfeather’s ankle and plant him on the ground. He tried to struggle from her grasp, but it was apparent that Lupa had successfully pinned him.

“Beaten by his own sister, what an embarrassment!” The announcer joked, “But a good fight indeed! Direwolf wins!”

The pair rose to their feet and bowed to the crowd, before moving from the arena. Tyra rushed out of her seat and jumped down from the stands.

“Tyra, where are you going?” Called Dahlia from the stands.

“I have to talk to them, I’ll be right back.” Tyra responded. She could hear Dahlia running behind her.

Dahlia’s hand wrapped around Tyra’s arm, stopping the girl in her tracks.

“What’s going on, Tyra?” Dahlia insisted.

“I just want to tell them they did a good job.” Tyra responded quietly.

Dahlia looked at her for a moment, before smiling, “It’s Ghostfeather, isn’t it? Aren’t you a little young to be liking men?”

“It’s not that!” Tyra snapped, “Come on, let’s hurry before dad notices we are gone.”

The two girls made their way to a tent where the competitors were cleaning up after their battles. They spotted the Bestia twins at the back of the tent, chatting happily and dressing a cut on Lupa’s arm.

“Hi!’ Tyra chirped. The twins turned to her and Lupa replied, “Hey Tyra, what are you doing here?”

“My sister wants to say she has a crush on Ghostfeather!” Dahlia spoke up.

“Dahlia!” Tyra snapped.

The Bestia man chuckled, “It’s Strix, and… you are my type, but sorry, I’m taken.”

“I don’t have a crush on you!” replied Tyra, “You’re cute but I don’t have a crush on you.”

“Okay.” Strix had a humoured smile.

“I came here to say you were really cool, Lupa!” Tyra added. 

Lupa smiled, “Oh thank you! I’ve been practising all morning. Speaking of, did you lose your dad again?”

“No, he’s at the arena… but I wanted to say thanks for helping me this morning.”

“Don’t mention it.” Lupa replied, “And speaking of, how would you two like to hang out with me and my brother? If your dad’s okay with it, that is.”

“You’d love to hang out with Strix all day, wouldn’t you Tyra?” Dahlia joked. 

Tyra hit her arm, before turning back to Lupa, “Sure!”

  
  


\--------

  
  


Vivian put her book down, annoyed that she would not be able to focus on the chapter over Jewel’s incessant speech. She missed the days when her next-youngest sister was quiet and shy, but over the past few years Jewel had become increasingly louder and more outspoken

The carriage finally rolled to a stop and Vivian reached for the door, but before she could open it, her little sister nearly shoved her aside in an excited attempt to get out.

“Jewel, calm down!” Vivian snapped.

“Oh, how can I be calm?! We’re going to get jobs, we’re going to get jobs! What do you think we’ll get to do?”   
“You’re not going to get any job with all of that yammering!” Vivian replied in annoyance.

The girls had been growing bigger, and Elizabeth’s clothing repair just wasn’t making enough to provide for them anymore. Hazel had moved to help her in that business while Jewel and Vivian had agreed to search for work in the town.

It was a bright, sunny day, and people walked to and fro with barely a care in the Realm. Vivian bit her lip as she observed the scene around her, always on the lookout for any suspicious men who would want to kidnap her or her sisters, like what had nearly happened to Penelope some time ago.

“Vivie!” Jewel shrieked, startling Vivian out of her inner monologue.

“Vivie look!” Jewel continued. Vivian followed her sister’s gaze to a sign in a window that read, “Help wanted! Seeking young ladies.”

She stepped back, looking over the building: It had worn wood, it was wide and tall, and over the door, it wore big letters that spelt “Tavern”. There were two entrances, one which was formal and had a white door, and one which was clearly the entrance to an attached saloon.

“Oh, maybe we can get a job cleaning.” Vivian smiled, “A nice, simple job. Low risk.”

The two entered the building. The main lobby hosted a small unattended counter and a little waiting area with seats. There were doorways on the right and left, and a staircase behind the counter. Vivian could hear music and voices from the doorway on the left: that one must lead to the Saloon.

“What can I do for you two fine ladies?” Announced an old voice. Vivian looked up to see a man coming down the stairs. He approached the counter and rested his arms on the worn surface.

“We’re here for a job, mister!” Jewel replied, giving a slight curtsey. After a moment, Vivian repeated the action.

“Well, you two are just what we’re looking for.” The tavernkeeper smiled, “Come here and I’ll get you your uniforms and explain your jobs.”

The two followed the man as he went back upstairs. Vivian fished a notebook from her satchel so she could take notes of the job description. 

The tavernkeeper began to explain, “It’s a pretty simple job, you won’t have to deal with any obnoxious guests, we’ll throw ‘em out if they get too rowdy.”

Before Vivian could respond, the tavernkeeper stopped at a door. He opened the door, revealing a closet, and he began to search around in a box on the closet floor for a moment. After finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a pair of dresses.

“Here, I think these two will fit y’all.” He said cheerfully as he held the dresses up to them.

“That’s… a lot of leg showing…” Jewel spoke.

“We ain’t whores!” Vivian snapped, pushing the frilly, revealing dress aside.

“Now, now,” The man cut in, “You’d be working down at the Saloon. You’ll be delivering drinks and hanging out with my guests, that’s it. Nothing dirty, nothing bad, and we got guys to take care of aggressive guests, you’re perfectly safe.”

“Come on, Jewel, get away from this pervert!” Vivian grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her down the hallway.

“Vivie, no, I think it’ll be okay!” Jewel pleaded as she fought against her older sister’s grasp.

“We ain’t whores, we ain’t going to dress like whores, we ain’t going to act like whores!” Vivian snarled, pulling her sister down the stairs. She didn’t bother looking back to the tavernkeeper.

“Vivie, please! Please, I think it’s okay, we’ll be okay!” Jewel tried to plant her feet, an action which stopped Vivian.

Vivian glared at her sister, “Mom was a whore, look how that turned out? You wanna have six kids and abandon them one at a time to fend for themselves? You wanna be like mom?”

“Vivie!” Jewel yanked her arm from Vivian’s grasp, “We won’t be whores. Please, let’s just check out the saloon, huh? We’ll look around, and if you still don’t like it then we’ll go somewhere else for work. But please let us look at it first!”

Vivian sighed and crossed her arms, “Fine, we’ll check it out. And then we’ll leave and go get a job at a real business.”

Jewel smiled and bounded off into the saloon. Vivian rolled her eyes and followed after her sister.

The saloon was poorly lit and looked much bigger on the inside than on the outside. The ceiling was low but the building was wide, with several partial rooms. There was a gambling area in one partial room, and the other two partial rooms seemed to be eating areas with wide booths and longer tables than the normal tables. The bar was pretty and well polished, and the barkeep was a friendly-looking young man. There were a few patrons in the saloon, more than Vivian would have expected on a Wednesday afternoon. Two saloon girls moved around, but they seemed to be mostly keeping to themselves and cleaning.

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jewel chirped.

“You’re too young to drink.” Vivian replied, but her sister was already walking away.

Vivian sighed and walked around the saloon. Honestly, it was a lot cleaner than she had expected. The walls were lined with interesting art, maps, and artefacts, the patrons were either quiet and peaceful or nearly unconsciously drunk.

“Vivian?”

Vivian looked up to the familiar voice. She spotted a young man sitting at one of the gambler’s tables, casually sorting through a deck of cards.

“Levi?” Vivian approached with interest, “I haven’t seen you since… well, how are you?”

“Doing a lot better today getting to see you again.” He smirked, “C’mon, take a seat, we’ll play a game.”

“Oh, I don’t play cards.” She replied, but she took a seat beside his, “What brings you here?”

“It’s where I spend most of my nights.” He smiled, leaning forward and placing his deck delicately on the table, “Make decent money here, I’m quite the cardsman. What about you? What’s a fine lady like yourself doing at a place like this?”

Vivian glanced over her shoulder at Jewel, annoyed to see the girl settling down at the bar with a shot glass, “My sister and I were job hunting, but-”   
“You’ll be working here?” Levi exclaimed, “That’s great! As I said, I come here most nights, but it’ll be so much nicer with you here.”

“Oh, no, no.” Vivian cut in, “We’re not like that, we’re not like…” she motioned to the saloon girls, “My sister and I are decent women.”

Levi frowned for a moment. He gently adjusted his glasses, before looking up at Vivian with a smile and a chuckle, “Hey now, those two are respectable ladies. They’re smart, they’re honest, they’re just here for the money and… to be fair, this place gets pretty lively come Saturday night, when the miners come into town. Come on, you should meet them.”

He sat up and gave a wolf-whistle. One of the girls ignored him and continued her work of chatting with a customer, but the shorter girl, a blonde woman in a red and black dress with a matching hat approached the two.

“Gilly, I was just telling my friend Vivian here about your job, she and her sis are looking for work.” Levi spoke, leaning back on his chair.

“Vivian, huh?” Gilly responded, looking the woman up and down, “I’ve heard of you.”

Vivian watched her closely, “And, what have you heard about me?”

“Levi was telling me all about how some asshole tried to take your little sis and you stood up to him and dealt with him right!” Gilly laughed, “Impressive woman, but have you ever thought of keeping a gun with you?”

Vivian chuckled, “I’ve never held a gun before.”

“Remind me, I’ll show you sometime.” Gilly replied with a wink, “No one’s going to be bothering you and your sisters when you’re blowing holes in his chest!”

Vivian smirked, “I like you.” She looked over the woman and noticed a set of small marks under one of Gilly’s eyes, “What are the marks?”

“Oh, they’re something I read about.” Gilly replied, “There’s this tribe up in the north, they wear marks like this to show they’re badass hunters or whatnot. The Zach- something tribe.”

“Zachranca?” Vivian suggested.

“Hey, that’s it! How’d you know about them?”

“It was in a book I’ve read.” Vivian responded, “And the author of the book, Fryda Fawkes, is from that tribe.”

“Hey, you know Fryday Fawkes!” Gilly exclaimed, “I didn’t know anyone in this damn town could read, and my new friend reads my favourite author!”

“New friend?” Vivian chuckled.

Gilly smiled and crossed her arms, “Well, you gotta be my new friend if I’ll be seeing you more often, since you’re working here, right?”

“Fine.” Vivian replied, “I suppose I should let my sister know.”


	4. A Realm of Thieves

Tyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she kept her horse close to her father’s. The hunting party moved swiftly through the frozen forest on horseback, their eyes keen for possible dangers around them.

Tyra glanced up at Dahlia, trying to read her big sister’s expression. Dahlia seemed calm. How, Tyra could not understand.

This was Tyra’s first real hunt, and when she succeeded, this would be the event that would earn her a hunter’s mark.

The blue stripe under Dahlia’s eye beckoned to Tyra. She wondered what her colour would be. Green for her tracking skills? Blue for her determination? Red for bravery? And how many stripes would she get? She’d probably start with one like her sister, she’d have to earn the others for great feats. 

Tyra’s inner monologue was cut off as her father raised a hand, stopping the hunting party. 

“What is it? Mattias asked quietly, taking a step toward his brother.

Albin motioned to the ground before them, before turning to his younger daughter, “Tyra, what kind of tracks are these?”

Tyra swallowed tentatively and walked to her father. She examined the fresh clawed pawprints in the snow for a moment, before responding, “Wolves.”

“Just wolves?” Her father questioned.

“Direwolves!” Tyra responded, “Too large to be normal wolves, too small to be wargs.”

“Very good.” Albin smiled, placing a hand on her back, “But you must be careful. If you had thought they were wolves, then walked into a den of direwolves, you’d be dead. If you had shot at a pack of wargs thinking they were direwolves, you’d have an unneeded fight on your hands. Do you know why?”

“Wargs are peaceful by nature unless they’re hungry or protecting young, but they can be very vengeful.” Tyra responded, “Kill one and the whole pack will carefully hunt down and kill you and your family. And there is no need to pick a fight with wolves since they will usually flee from humans. But direwolves may hunt down our tribe for fun or food, so we need to make sure that there are none denning near us.”

Albin nodded in approval, before motioning the group to move on, “We should find these direwolves and make sure they know to stay far away from this place.”

The group dropped from their horse’s backs, tied the mounts to a tree, and continued on foot, occasionally pointing out other signs of the direwolves and chatting quietly among each other.

Dahlia seemed deep in thought, and Tyra did not want to interrupt her.

The group came to a clearing in the forest, but before they could walk into the clearing, Albin raised a hand to stop them.

He motioned in the distance with his arm. Tyra noticed along with the others that something was moving through the snow a few dozen yards away. The creatures were walking in single file through the snowy field.

“I think we found our direwolves.” Dahlia muttered.

Albin pointed to a ditch in the snow nearby, “Move quickly and quietly, and set up your guns.”

The group moved swiftly to the ditch. Tyra was uneasy about jumping in, but after a comforting glance from her sister, she carefully dropped down into the hole. The high snow walls around her made her feel nervous.

The hunting party began to set rifles up on the wall of the snowbank toward the direwolves.

Tyra looked through her scope, getting a clear view of the massive creatures as they moved through the snow, each stepping in the footprints of the one before.

“This is Tyra’s first hunt, I think she should take the first shot.” Mattias said firmly, but quietly.

“I agree.” Replied Albin. Tyra looked up from her scope to her father’s warm, assuring gaze.

Tyra took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she looked into her scope and scanned the direwolves. She tracked the rifle along the direwolf line, tail to head of each creature. She could feel her heart in her throat.

Her scoped view came to the biggest direwolf leading the pack through the snow, pushing the way for its followers. Her crosshairs fell over its massive head, perfectly aligned with its dark eye.

A bead of sweat ran down Tyra’s brow. She just noticed how cold the snow she was pressed against was. She felt the trigger of her rifle under her finger. She let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding and squeezed the trigger.

She paused.

Something in her froze. 

Something in her couldn’t do it.

The direwolf stopped in its tracks and turned its head.

It was looking at her.

It began to move.

“Tyra get down!” She could hear her father shout as he leapt to her and wrapped his arms around her, yanking her down.

In seconds the direwolf had managed to clear the several dozen meters between the pack’s trail and the hunting party. It leapt over the snowbank, slamming into the ditch in a flurry of snow.

Tyra tried to move away, but her father’s arm was wrapped around her as he held her in one hand and his rifle in the other.

He fired off a blast, and the direwolf shrieked as blood sprayed from its shoulder.

Four more direwolves leapt into the ditch and were met with gunfire from the hunting party. Tears streamed down Tyra’s face as she dropped her gun and hugged her father, burying her face in his chest in humiliation.

  
  


The night sky filled with laughter as a woman in the hunting party finished up her funny tale of her first time attempting to mount a horse. The group were gathered around a small campfire, happily feasting on fire-cooked direwolf flesh.

Tyra couldn’t bring herself to join in on the merriment. She sat in the circle gazing at the skinned canine thigh in her hands. She felt sick to her stomach.

“Come on Tyra, you need to eat to keep your strength up.” Dahlia spoke softly from beside her. Tyra’s sister put a hand on her shoulder.

“I choked.” Tyra muttered, “I couldn’t take the shot. What if I can never do it?”

“It’s okay, it’s normal to get a little nervous. Your first kill is a big thing.” Dahlia assured her.

“Did you choke?” Tyra glanced into her sister’s eyes.

“Well… no, I didn’t.” Dahlia admitted, “But it’s still normal.”

“I failed my first hunt!” Tyra snapped, “You didn’t fail your first hunt! Dad didn’t! I did!”

“Your mother did.” Mattias chuckled, interrupting them, “I remember the first time Fryda went hunting, she was supposed to kill a moose. The thing decided to charge at her and slammed her. She went flying!”

The hunting party erupted into laughter, save for Tyra, who buried her head in her arms and let her food drop into the snow.

“Tyra-” Dahlia attempted, but Tyra stood up quickly and pushed past her sister. She went to her tent and buried her face in her pillow. 

The girl began to sob quietly.

She could hear the hunters speaking outside, telling tales of hunts gone well and hunts gone poorly. She didn’t take her head from the tear-stained pillow for a long while as she listened to the hunters move into their tents one by one. It felt odd that she wouldn’t be sharing a tent with her sister this night. Tyra didn’t like sleeping alone.

It was late in the night now. Tyra looked up from the pillow, watching the dim campfire light cast shadows on the canvas of her tent. The first watch was outside tending to the fire and looking over the camp, although Tyra wasn’t sure who had been assigned the duty tonight.

The shadows danced on her tent walls, and she watched them move back and forth softly.

Someone stood up in front of her tent, his shadows looking mighty against the canvas.

Something massive moved past the tents, and the man shrieked in alarm. The thing slammed into the man, before tearing a tent open. A blood-curdling scream lit the air. 

Tyra leapt out of her tent to watch as the creature pelted off into the dark forest, something in its jaws.

Albin rushed past Tyra from his tent. He fell to his knees beside the nightguard, who was badly bleeding from a bite mark in his abdomen and was barely conscious.

The horses were panicked and the hunting party emerged from their tents in various states of alertness as they took in the scene.

“This looks like a Gorlock’s doing!” Mattias exclaimed.

Tyra looked over the destroyed tent, noticing that it was empty and showed no signs of blood. The beast must have stolen the tent’s inhabitant for a snack.

She looked over the camp, slowly releasing in horror that there was one particular face she could not see.

“It took Dahlia!”

Mattias and Albin looked at her in shock. Albin’s face furrowed into sorrow and he hung his head, “My daughter…”

Tyra surged forward and snatched one of the horses by its reigns.

“Tyra, no, there’s nothing we can do!” Mattias protested, but Tyra had already flung her satchel over one shoulder, snatched her rifle in one hand, threw a leg around the horse’s abdomen, and gave it a kick to send it off.

The freezing wind bit at her face and her unkempt braid flicked behind her as she stared forward into the darkness, keenly aware of the Gorlock’s prints in the snow. She didn’t see blood, not yet. Dahlia could still be okay.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, the Realm was spinning around her as she was surrounded by darkness and flurries of snow. The sound of the horse’s hooves flying through the snow was drowned out by the blood rushing in her ears and her panting breath.

Suddenly, Tyra yanked her horse’s reins, pulling the beast to a sliding halt.

They had come to a clearing in the forest, and the tracks led right to the mouth of a looming cave.

Tyra slid off of her horse and pulled her belt from her satchel. She wrapped it around her waist, carefully equipping her horntorches and checking to see that her rifle was loaded.

She took a few steps into the ominous cave. She lit a horntorch and raised it before her. These torches were carved from thin horns and filled with a flammable liquid, and they could hold a light for hours if needed.

The cave was eerily quiet. Tyra waved the horntorch around, letting the light reveal parts of the cave to her. The light showed the slumped-over form of a blonde-haired woman at the back of the cave.

Tyra gasped, tears forming in her eyes as she spoke, “Dahlia?”

Dahlia’s head rose slowly, and her eyes met Tyra’s. There were bite marks on her abdomen, but otherwise, she just appeared winded.

Suddenly her eyes widened. Tyra realised that there was warm breath on her back.

She dropped the horntorch.

The horn shattered on the ground, spraying its flaming oil across the cave. Tyra dove forward on to the ground and scrambled to escape the flames and get to her sister. She glanced over her shoulder to see the gorlock stepping back, roaring in fear and rage at the fire.

Tyra turned and unhooked her rifle from her back, aiming it at the creature. She let off a blast, the bullet sinking into the creature’s chest. 

The gorlock fell back, its tiny eyes trying to spot Tyra through the smoke. Tyra yanked Dahlia to her feet and threw the woman over her shoulder, before sinking in shock of Dahlia’s weight. She made a mental note to practice deadlifting once she was safe and back home.

Tyra was alerted at the gorlock suddenly noticing her. It charged forward, teeth bared, drool dripping from its jaw.

Tyra shrieked and fired again, this bullet scraping the creature’s shoulder. The gorlock again paused in shock, giving Tyra the time to bolt forward as fast as she could with a nearly grown woman over her shoulder. Dahlia moaned softly in pain.

Something massive and heavy slammed into Tyra’s side, throwing her to the ground. She tried to push Dahlia to safety, before looking up to see rows of pearly teeth looming down at her. 

Tyra shrieked and rolled, and the gorlock tried to catch her with its claws. She felt the flesh in her arm tear in its grasp.

Nearby, Dahlia was struggling to her feet. Tyra kicked off of the ground and hooked an arm around Dahlia’s, before yanking her sister after her out of the cave.

The morning light shone through the cave entrance, giving Tyra a burst of hope.

The two flew out of the cave, and Tyra gasped to see that the light was not the morning sun, but a dozen horntorches. The hunting party had arrived!

Tyra stumbled forward, collapsing into the snow beside Dahlia.

A roar echoed through the Frozen Frontier as the gorlock charged from the cave, its glare set straight for Tyra.

The hunting party opened fire, and Tyra sunk her face into the snow and clutched her ears, the roar of the gorlock drowned out by the boom of gunfire.

She could feel Dahlia curled up beneath her.

She could feel Dahlia’s heartbeat pound as fiercely as hers.

She felt terror.

She felt alive.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


She felt dead.

Emotionally drained, physically exhausted… Vivian wanted nothing more than to curl up on her bed at home, wrapped in a pile of blankets, burying her face in the latest Fryda Fawkes book. Maybe the book’s version of the Realm could distract her from the gross, disgusting real Realm.

“Vivi, wake up! We’re almost there!” Jewel chirped, nudging her older sister’s shoulder. Vivian ignored the younger woman, choosing instead to continue to watch the Damned Frontier as it rolled by outside the carriage window.

“Vivi! Vivi! Wake up! Vivi!” Jewel began to shake Vivian’s shoulder.

“Knock it off, I’m awake!” Vivian snapped, raising her head from the crook of her arm.

The carriage rolled to a stop and Jewel flew out with the same enthusiasm that she always carried with her to work. Vivian fluffed out her short skirt, tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, faked a smile, and followed her sister.

Jewel pranced ahead of Vivian and made her way to the tavern door. She threw the door open with enthusiasm and waved to the patrons. Vivian followed Jewel through the door, not raising her eyes off the floor. 

The two girls made their way to the bar, where the tavernkeep welcomed them and told them which customers had not been served yet. As Jewel pranced off to the customers, Vivian sat on a barstool, trying her hardest to keep her fake smile plastered on her face.

“You been getting sleep, young lady?” The Tavernkeep asked, eyeing her, “You got bags under your eyes, you’re much too young for that.”

“I’m fine, just slept in a bit, that’s all.” Vivian replied in a chipper tone. The Tavernkeep nodded and returned to his work of preparing drinks for the patrons who had ordered.

“Vivian! How’s it, girl?” Came a bright voice from beside Vivian. She looked up into the warm gaze of Gilly.

“Real good, just fine.” Vivian replied, moving off of the stool. Turning away from Gilly, she took the drinks from the counter, picked up the note cards that told who they were for, and left her friend behind.

  
  


A snap shocked Vivian into focus. It took her a moment to realise that she was sitting at a gambler’s table in the back of the tavern, a warm, empty glass under her fingertips.

“Vivian? You with me?” Levi snapped his fingers in her face again. She looked up at him.

“C’mon Vivi, what’s up?” He asked, leaning forward on the table. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine!” Vivian replied, giving a wide grin.

“Aw, don’t pull that shit with me.” Levi snapped, “That’s the tone you get with them patrons, the flirty tone you tavern girls fake.”

“You’re a patron.” Vivian cut her eyes.

Levi leaned back in his chair, his face contorting into mock shock and sadness. He placed his hand to his chest, coughed, and remarked, “Me? Is that all I am to you? I see how it is- you ain’t friends with poor old Levi, I’m just here to give you money and get drinks then, aight.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Vivian chuckled.

“Well, you can be honest with me, can’t you?” Levi reached to her and touched her chin with the back of his finger.

“Honestly,” Vivian sighed, “I thought that maybe… maybe if I don’t think about it, if I pretend it’s not real… it’ll all just be a bad dream.”

Levi cocked a brow and placed his elbows on the table, “What are you going on about, Vivi?”

Vivian felt her breath catch in her throat. She glanced away from Levi and searched for Jewel. The young woman was dancing in the open area of the Tavern, singing along to whatever song the piano player was performing for her.

Vivian could feel Levi’s eyes on the back of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her.

“Are you mad?” He asked.

“Look at her.” Vivian replied, “Not a care in the Realm.”

“Vivi, look at me.”

She couldn’t bring herself to.

“Vivi?”

Vivian turned to him, “Elizabeth. She’s gone.”

Levi’s face turned stern, “You know she’s gone?”

“She went to town to the store two days ago.” Vivian replied, “She never came home that night. She hasn’t been home since.”

Levi looked down at the table. 

Vivian could no longer hold back her emotions. She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands.

“There, there, it’s alright.” Levi spoke softly, taking her in an embrace.

“It’s not alright, she could be dead by now!” She sobbed into his chest.

“They ain’t gonna take her to kill her, that’d be kinda stupid, don’t you think?”

“You’re not helping!” Vivian tried to pull out of Levi’s grasp, but he held her firm.

“Aight, aight, I’m sorry. Point is, Elizabeth’s still out there, I promise you. The Lawmen will look for her, they’ll save her.”

“They never save those girls who get stolen.” Vivian muttered, “None of those girls ever come back, you know that.”

“They ain’t gonna save those girls, but I am.” He breathed into the back of her neck.

Vivian sat up and wiped her face with her hand, “What?”

Levi sat back in his chair. He took a cigar pack from his breast pocket and gently placed a cigar in his mouth. Vivian offered him a lighter.

Once his cigar was lit and the lighter had been returned, Levi reached into another pocket and pulled out a small book. He passed it to Vivian.

Vivian hesitated for a moment, before opening the book. Each page was covered in scribbles- straight lines, curved lines, and words.

“What is all this?” She asked, passing the notebook back to him. Levi flipped through the pages, landing on one with a depiction of a crudely drawn mounted gun.

“That looks like something a dwarf would make.” Vivian muttered.

“It is.” Levi replied, “There ain’t a lot of books about Dwarven machinery, but I grab everyone I can.”

“What do you want with Dwarven machinery?” Vivian asked.

Levi smiled. He retracted the notebook and began to flip through it slowly as he replied, “I’ll find my way out of this hellhole. Crystals, you heard of them? People use them to make these machines, I’m going to learn it.”

“What use would you have for that?” Vivian sat back and crossed her arms.

Levi looked into her eyes with that twinkle that she knew well, the look that caused her to always beat him at poker. No one else could notice it, no one knew that look like she did.

“The Eastern Continent has their fancy houses, their rules and families and whatnot. The South has Crosswind Hold and the Magistrate or whatever. We in the Westen Continent, from the Damned Frontier to the Shattered Desert to the Greenscape to the Frozen Frontier, we don’t have none of that. People around here aren’t born into power, they  _ earn  _ it. All of the greatest rulers have their gimmicks. Faustus has his army of mage slaves, Ciara and her damn Amazons, The Morningstar and his magic powers that would scare a Warder into pissing himself. This kinda stuff, this is going to be  _ my _ gimmick.”

“You want to be a bandit king?” Vivian gasped.

Levi snorted, “Oh, hell no. But it’s going to happen. I’m going to learn machinery, I’m going to make machines, turrets, automatons. And I’m going to make the Damned Frontier a safe place, I swear to you.”

Vivian cocked a brow, “I never took you for the morally superior type.”

“What did you take me for?” Levi questioned.

“Depends on how many people you’ve robbed tonight with that ace in your sleeve.” Vivan smirked.

Levi frowned and moved his hand under the table, “Yeah, yeah, I count my cards, I keep my sleeves down… but it’s for a good cause at least. Machinery and the magic to power it is expensive, and I can’t get quick money like y’all tavern girls. Gilly’s practically showing her ass for money-”

“I wouldn’t let her hear you saying that.” Vivian giggled.

Levi smiled, “Yeah, but y’all women have your tricks, this is mine.” He held up his hand, revealing an ace of spades, “And, speaking of tricks, my little friend here would like to purchase two beers, one for me and one for you, with the money that he was so polite to gather for me tonight.”

Vivian grinned, stood up from her seat and reached to touch Levi’s chin. She gently stroked his beard, before quickly moving her hair to the top of his head and aggressively ruffling his hair.

  
  



	5. What we do for the ones we Love

Tyra squealed and dashed forward, ignoring the protests of her father. Bestia’s visit was a very special occasion, the Zachranca tribe were supposed to be accepting them in with grace and dignity.

Screw grace and dignity, Tyra decided.

The members of Bestia moved in alarm as Tyra raced past the lineup of Zachranca members who were waiting to greet the other tribe. A woman ran from Bestia’s line and grabbed Tyra, and the two embraced in a hug.

“Direwolf, do you know this girl?” Asked Sharptooth, the Bestia tribe leader.

“She’s only my favourite friend in the whole Realm!” Lupa squealed, and Tyra gave a shriek of excitement.

Sharptooth shared a smile with Albin, before Albin raised a hand in welcome, and the people of Zachranca moved forward to greet the people of Bestia.

Tyra guided Lupa through the camp to a nice quiet place where they could talk: under the twisted roots of an old tree at the far edge of the camp.

“Where’s Strix?” Tyra asked, suddenly realising that she hadn’t spotted Lupa’s twin brother in the crowd.

“He… he left.” Lupa sighed.

“Left? Where did he go? Is he…” Tyra lowered her voice, “Is he beyond?”

Lupa’s eyes widened, “Oh, the gods, no! He’s still in this Realm.”She chuckled, before adding, “He’s gone down to the South. Down, down, down, all the way to Crosswind Hold.”

Tyra stuck her tongue out, “Why would he do such a stupid thing? Crosswind Hold? That sounds like one of the places my mother would write about.”

Lupa sighed, “This troupe came from the South. They wanted to recruit strong men and women sixteen years or older to go with them down to Crosswind Hold to join the Master’s… Majesty’-- I don’t know, something like that. The army. He joined the army.”

Tyra frowned and looked down into the snow.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Lupa spoke, “I know you have a thing for him-”

“I do not!” Tyra snapped.

Lupa chuckled, “Okay, so if you were to, though, he is married… so…”

“Matters nothing to me!” Tyra replied, sticking her nose in the air. After a few minutes of quiet, she frowned and looked down at the snow, “How’s the tribe taking it?”

“We got a commission for every young man and woman who signed up.” Lupa sighed. “It’s a drought in the Greenscape right now so… we needed the food and resources they were offering.”

Tyra watched the woman for a few moments, before clicking her tongue, “Enough of this… you need your mind taken off things, don’t you?”

“That would be rather nice.” Lupa smiled.

Tyra stood sharply and motioned Lupa with her hand, before darting off into the village. She could hear Lupa laughing as the woman ran after her.

The two moved quickly through the village, before pushing through the bush barrier into the forest beyond. As soon as they had left the village, they slowed to a walking pace. Lupa hugged her wolf cloak tightly around her body against the frigid air.

“I’ll never understand you Frozen Frontiersmen.” Lupa chuckled through tired breath, “We deal with winds and cold like this for the wintertime, but in the summer it’s warm and sunny and nice.”

Tyra stuck out her tongue and giggled, “Who would like warm and sunny? The cold is nice… you feel it, you really feel it. When it bites your skin it reminds you who you are and where you are and that you are one with nature.”

“Not so nice to be ‘one with nature’ when you’re on the latrine at night in cold like this, and your water freezes to you!” Lupa replied.

Tyra and Lupa made eye contact for a few moments, before both women burst out laughing.

The two continued on, sharing stories of each other’s more interesting hunts and recent exciting adventures, as well as recollecting on the adventures they and their tribes had had together in the last year.

They arrived at the base of a tree with a rope ladder hanging before them.

“My tribe travels, just like most of the tribes, but not all tribes come back to the same place every few years.” Tyra spoke softly.

Lupa reached out and pulled on rope ladder softly. After testing its strength, she swung a leg up onto the bottom wooden beam and began to climb. Once Lupa had made some distance, Tyra followed her.

Tyra pulled herself through the door of the treehouse, frowning slightly at the low roof. She hadn’t remembered it being this cramped.

She glanced around and spotted Lupa on the treehouse’s balcony; a spot without a roof that was a little less cramped for taller people. She moved to the woman and sat beside her, looking over the view of the treetops. She glanced to Lupa, surprised to see the woman’s awe-struck gaze.

“Never been this high before?” Tyra asked.

“The Greenscape is mostly flatlands and a few forests.” Lupa breathed, “Not much in terms of hills or… this. It’s so weird seeing a tree from the top.”

“That’s why we chose this tree for our treehouse.” Tyra beamed, “It’s so much taller than the others.”

Lupa crossed her knees and rested her head on her hand as she gazed silently.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him again.” the older woman spoke after a long moment of quiet.

“The gods will watch over him.” Tyra replied as she watched the sun behind the clouds. A sniffle broke the peace. She glanced to Lupa and watched a tear roll down the woman’s cheek. Tyra turned to Lupa and wrapped her arms around the woman’s. She wanted to speak words of peace to Lupa, but nothing came to her. She decided that the silent embrace would be comfort enough. She could feel Lupa’s weight roll into her.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Tyra spoke softly.

“I… I couldn’t do that to father and… I couldn’t do that to the gods.” Lupa replied, pulling away slightly to end the embrace, “I can’t imagine why Strix would go so far away from the lands of nature.”

“There’s nature in the South.” Tyra replied.

“There’s also beasts of metal, and there are people who wield nature in wrong ways.” Lupa glanced to her, “There’s nature but… not this nature. Not the right nature. Nature that’s been tainted by those stupid Southerners.”

“Southerners aren’t so bad.” Tyra spoke, “My mother knows of them. She writes about them and their lives and ways. Some of them are okay.”

“What does your mother know?” asked Lupa, “Has your mother been around them?...” She glanced away, “Does it matter?”

“My mother was an adventurer in her youth.” Tyra chuckled, “She’s been around. But the call of nature and the gods has brought her back. It’ll bring Strix back one day too.”

“Tyra, can I ask you something?” Lupa glanced away, “You… you do like my brother, right?”

“As. A. Friend.” Tyra snapped.

“So you don’t like him!” Lupa chuckled nervously, “Do you like people… like him?”

“Tall and buff?” Tyra asked. 

Lupa rolled her eyes, “Men, Tyra. Men.”

Tyra stammered, “Wh-what?”

Lupa closed her eyes, “You… you’re so young, I wish you weren’t so young.”

“I have had my right of passage!” Tyra snapped, pointing to the mark under her eye, “I’m a woman! I’m not naive!”

Lupa looked up, shock filling her face, “N-no, I wasn’t- that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t... I wasn’t insulting you- I didn’t mean to-”

“Hey, it’s okay, calm down.” Tyra gave a slight smile, “What did you mean, then?”

“To me… you’re young to me.” Lupa sighed.

“So?”

Lupa glanced in Tyra’s direction, but didn’t seem willing to make eye contact, “So, my brother doesn’t have hold-ups about that, but it feels weird for me. He thought you were really pretty.”

Tyra felt her face growing warm, “Is-is  _ that  _ why you keep asking? He likes  _ me? _ ”

“N-no, no, not- not like- no, he’s married.” Lupa stammered, “But…” She muttered something Tyra could not hear.

“What?” Tyra asked.

Lupa spoke a little bit louder, “I like you.”

Tyra watched Lupa in curiosity, before Lupa continued, “But you’re young for me, so… none of that. But I like you a lot and if you were older then I’d want to be with you.”

The two sat in silence as the cold wind blew over the North. They watched the sun over the treetops, neither woman wanting to speak, neither woman wanting the peaceful moment to end.

\------------

The silence was broken by the sound of piano music filling the pub. Vivian snapped out of her thoughts and glanced down at the sketches in the notebook in her hands. Lines here, symbols there, it was all a mess. She sighed and threw the notebook aside, resting her head in her hands.

The back of a hand traced her shoulder gently.

“Not now, Levi.” She muttered, “I’m trying to think.”

His hand moved down her back and rested on her hip.

Vivian huffed in mock-annoyance and turned to the man.

The man with his hand on her hip was not Levi.

“Hey, get off me!” She snapped, jumping from her seat. 

The ginger man who had approached her leaned back gently and gave a sly smile, “Now, now, little missy. That’s not a very nice way to talk to a patron of this here Saloon. Should I tell your boss you were giving me lip?”

Vivian crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Maybe I could forgive this little indecency if… you make it up for me.” The man continued.

“Piss off.” Vivian replied, storming past him. 

He grabbed her upper arm and held tight, his nails digging into her arm. He yanked her to him and snarled, “Keep that up, honey, see where it takes you.”

Vivian turned to him just in time for her to duck out of the way as Levi barreled past, knocking the ginger man off of his feet. Both men hit the floor and Levi began pounding on the man’s head. The man cried out and attempted to cover his face with his arms. 

Other men from the saloon gathered to watch the commotion, and a few came to drag Levi away and restrain him until he calmed down. Vivian knelt on the ground beside where the two men had him sitting.

“I’m surprised at you.” She said softly.

“Just being a gentleman.” He replied, carefully adjusting his glasses.

“I meant you tackled a man without saying anything snarky first.” Vivian chuckled. She took his shirt in one hand and pulled him off the ground by it. She and Levi moved back to his gambler’s table as the ginger man receded to the far end of the saloon for a drink.

“Now then, let me see what you’re working on, sugar.” Levi sat at his usual chair and reached for Vivian’s notebook.

“Oh, it’s not ready yet, it’s all messy still.” Vivian insisted, taking the seat beside his.

Levi scrolled through the pages, tutting cheerfully with each one. After a few moments, he helped the notebook up to Vivian, “Tell me about this one.”

Vivian scrolled over the page and the mess of scribbles she had sketched on it, “Oh, that? It’s nothing, really. Just an idea.”

Levi reached to Vivian and took her chin in his hand. He pulled her close for a quick peck on the cheek, before smiling, “Come on now, sugar, what’s this?”

“It’s a drone.” Vivian looked away, “It was just an idea; a drone, moving, floating, intent on protecting its master.”

“Incredible.” Levi sighed. Vivian glanced back to see him tracing his hand over the drone’s sketched design and the numbers listed on the side- different amounts of crystal energy that would need to be siphoned to each of the drone’s parts by a magical core in the centre.

“I’m sure we can find the crystals for this, I’m making good money, y’know.” Levi chirped as he observed the design.

“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t ask for your help!” Vivian replied quickly, “I’m honoured you helped me learn how this kind of stuff works, but you have your own works to make, you can’t be wasting your time or money on me.”

Levi glanced up at her, his emerald eyes shining, “Nothing that makes you smile is a waste.”

“Levi! Got something to talk to you about.” Came a rough, male voice from behind Vivian. She turned to see a dark-skinned, blue-eyed bounty hunter.

Vivian stood quickly, giving a polite curtsy to the bounty hunter. The man took off his hat and placed it to his chest, greeting her with a calm, “Ma’am.” before turning back to Levi. Vivian cast her companion a glance, and he responded silently by motioning with his hand for her to leave.

She moved away to give the two men their privacy. Remembering her job, the young woman began to clean up a few abandoned tables. As she picked up dishes and wiped down messes, she noticed a newspaper left behind on one of the circular bar tables. The cover article was one she had read that morning, and scrolling over the headline gave her the same odd feeling that she had when she first read it.

_ Bandit King Found in Pieces in his own Bed _ .

According to the article, a bandit king had grown bored of one of his concubines and had ended her life. The next morning, his guards had entered his room to find him chopped up into tiny pieces and strewn across his room. The only part of him in one piece was his head, which rested gently on the lap of the dead concubine. The concubine was dressed in her master’s finest robes, and she was sat up on the bed with her head rolled forward and her unseeing eyes open, their death glare locked to the head in her lap.

A bandit king murdered was hardly news to Vivian, but she thought back on the morning when she had flipped to the page with the rest of the article. Placed gently among the words was a picture of a woman, the concubine in question. Vivian had recalled the utter horror, the feeling of her heart drop, the wave of nausea, as she gazed into the green eyes of Elizabeth.

The picture had been taken shortly before her death. Her eyes were sunken, her skin clung to her bones, she was hardly dressed, most of her hair had been torn out. Of the hair that remained, her single red streak shone brightly from the matted and torn black hair. Vivian toucher her own streak and closed her eyes as the memory overtook her.

She turned and rushed to the bar to order a drink. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder and spotted Levi in talks with the bounty hunter. Occasionally when Levi cheated people, they would send bounty hunters to get their money back from him. It looked like Levi was charming his way out of this one- or at least lying and claiming he had no clue what was going on. The bounty hunter seemed to believe him- for now.

Vivian took her prepared drink and sat at a table, stirring it slightly.

“Hey, Vivie!” Squeaked Jewel as the woman moved to sit beside her older sister.

“Hey Jewel, how’s work?” Vivian asked.

“It’d be a lot better if you spent less time with your boyfriend and more time tending to customers!” Jewel sat back, resting a leg on the chair of a table next to her.

Vivian moved her drink aside, out of her view, and placed both arms on the table, “I don’t know how you can be so cheerful all the time. You never act like anything’s the matter.”

“Nothing’s the matter with me.” Jewel replied, “You spend too much time worrying about what’s happening everywhere else in the Realm.”

Someone bumped into Vivian’s chair. She glanced up to see the ginger man walking away.

“People bother me all the time, they don't bother you?” Vivian asked, turning back to Jewel.

“Course they do!” Jewel smiled, “I feel bad for all those men who really got nothing better to do than to stroke their pathetic egos by messing with young women.”

Vivian chuckled, “I wish I had your patience for dealing with idiots.”

“Patience? Not patience, just the attention span of a prairie dog!” Jewel laughed, “They can’t bother me if I already forgot them the moment I turn around. Now then, you gonna drink that?” The younger woman motioned to Vivian’s drink.

“It’s not alcoholic.” Vivian shrugged, remembering her drink.

“Didn’t ask, but I’m thirsty!” Jewel replied, “Besides, I haven’t been having alcohol much on my shifts, makes it too easy for the customers to steal my tips.”

Vivian passed the drink to Jewel, who happily took it and chugged it down.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jewel chirped, “I have customers to take care of.” The younger woman leapt from her chair and pranced off. 

Vivian paused a moment to take in the view around her: there were a few men and women dancing near the piano, laughing and playing cheerfully, the ginger man was leaned against a wall with his eyes locked on Vivian, Jewel was tending to a handsome young man and delivering his drinks, Gilly was tending to a group of miners and welcoming them to the saloon, and Levi seemed done with his business with the bounty hunter. Levi stood up from the gambler’s table and moved to a lounge area on another side of the bar. He rested down on one of the fainting couches, slinging one leg over either side and covering his face with his forearm.

Vivian walked over to him and after watching him for a moment, she swung one leg over him and sat on his abdomen. He moved his arm from his view in alarm, before seeing her and smiling. He placed his hands gently on her hips.

“What was all that about?” Vivian asked, motioning to the bounty hunter by the door.

“Aw, you know, someone lost a game to me, claims about  _ cheating _ or whatnot. For the record, I wasn’t cheating this time, that guy just had the worst damn poker face I have ever seen.”

“That’s your excuse this time?” Vivian joked, leaning forward to lay her chest on his.

Levi smirked and wrapped an arm around her, “Honest! Honest, honest, honest, didn’t cheat this time!” He pulled her close and kissed her lips. Vivian laughed through his embrace. As she pulled away slightly, she gazed into his eyes for a few long moments, taking in his face.

Suddenly, Levi looked away at someone beside them, “Gilly? Y’all right?”

Vivian glanced up to see the woman standing a few feet away, a concerned expression on her face.

“Vivian, I think Jewel is sick.” Gilly spoke, “She’s pale and she was swaying a bit.”

“Probably just had too much to drink!” Levi laughed.

“She’s not drinking, she hasn’t had anything to drink.” Vivian sat up on Levi’s abdomen. She scanned the room, but she didn’t see her sister. She glanced back to Gilly, “Did she go to the water closet?”

“I saw her drinking when she was sitting with you.” Gilly insisted.

“She took my drink, it was sugar water.” Vivian responded, “Now, where is she? Where’s the last place you saw her?”

Gilly looked back through the saloon before answering, “She fell against a wall and some man helped her up and said he was gonna take her for fresh air.”

“A ginger man?” Vivian snapped.

“Uh, yeah? I think.” Gilly took a step back.

Vivian leapt off of Levi, ignoring his gasp of alarm and protest. She dashed through the saloon, pushing past half-drunk customers.

The young woman threw open the saloon doors. She heard footsteps behind her as she ran onto the dusty ground outside the saloon. The buildings around her were illuminated by sunlight.

“Jewel!” Vivian cried. Levi and Gilly flanked her from either side. Gilly unholstered her pistol and held it by her face.

“I don’t see her!” Levi spoke quickly. Vivian moved around the front of the saloon, preparing to go into the inn portion. Did the ginger man take Jewel to one of the bedrooms?

A shuffling from the nearby alley alerted her. She dashed around the corner and strained to see in the darkness.

At the end of the alley, the ginger man was dragging a half-conscious woman to a waiting wagon.

“Let her go!” Vivian shrieked. Before she could move, before the man could respond, two shots rang out. The man fell to the ground with a cry of pain and alarm.

The three ran to the man and Jewel. Vivian knelt by her sister’s side, taking the woman in her arms. Jewel had clearly ingested some substance, and her eyes rolled blankly as she fell partially limp in Vivian’s arms. Vivian turned to her companions, to see them standing over the kidnapper. Levi had his fists clamped near his hips, and Gilly had her pistol aimed at the man’s head. Her other two shots had both cleanly landed in his knees.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Gilly snarled.

“You don- you don’t know h-how-” the man stuttered, before crying out and reaching for his own pistol. Another bullet in his shoulder stopped him.

“I got three more bullets.” Gilly snapped, “One for your other arm, one for your manhood, and one for your head. Should we start with that, or are you going to start talking?”

The man whimpered and lay back on the pavement, “Morningstar…”

“Morningstar wanted a new girl, huh?” Gilly clenched her finger on the trigger.

“N-no, no, she’s marked!” The man insisted, “It’s Morningstar’s mark, the hairstreak. She’s got the streak, girls like that go for a high price.”

“Why?” Vivian asked, holding Jewel to her bosom.

“Wasn’t it a girl with a hairstreak in the news this morning?” Levi asked, “What ended up happening to her bandit king wasn’t very pretty.”

“It’s a challenge, a call of war.” The man muttered through the tears of pain he was sniffling back, “Most bandit kings and slavers stay away from the streaked girls, but the few very bold, very risky, go after them to challenge him. He marks them to warn them away, but they want to fight him.”

“Then they get cut into little pieces like the one in the news?” Levi challenged.

The man quivered softly on the ground, “Not my king, he’s strong. M-Morningstar can’t take him down.”

“Why does he mark us?” Vivian spoke.

“I-I don’t know.” The man replied

Three shots rang out as Gilly carried out her promise.

“What the hell does Morningstar want with me and my family?” Vivian mustered through stressed breath.

“Screw Morningstar.” Levi spat, “Screw all them bandit kings. Screw all this.” He knelt beside Vivian and held her close, “You and I, us and Gilly, we’re gonna make the Damned Frontier a safe place, no more of this crap again. Morningstar can go to hell, and all the other bandit kings and slavers can follow him. I’ll point them in the right direction.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
